


Galatea

by Prawnperson



Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Character Introductions, F/M, Fluff, Galatea AU, Robot!Walani
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2020-11-01 04:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: In which WX-78 creates a robotic companion after the Voxola fire, and gets themselves and her dragged into the Constant in order to gift her sentience.





	1. Galatea

“Soft...”

Oh, thank goodness, they’ve found her. She wanders off so frequently, no matter how tightly they grip her hand. They can make out her small figure, light red and crouched in the sand.

“WALANI!”

They begin marching over to her, struggling through the thicket of tall grass, hacking it out of the way with their machete. She gives them a small wave of acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the crab she has trapped in an upturned straw hat.

“Soft!!”

She announces again, holding the crustacean out and beaming widely. WX-78 sighs, both admiringly and tiredly.

“NO, THAT’S HARD. FEEL IT.”

Obediently, she reaches in and delicately brushes her small fingertips against the shell of the creature. It makes a high pitched noise, and she yanks her hand back with a giggle. WX is only thankful it didn’t try to pinch her, because then they’d have another fiasco like they did when the coconut fell on her head. They take the hat from her and turn the crab out onto the ground, where it scuttles away. They couldn’t bring themselves to kill that one in front of her. Not whenever she seemed so attached to it.

“Mixed them up!”

She giggles. She presses her palms flat into the sand she’s sitting on, sighing out in delight whenever the sensation of the sun warmed ground reaches her wiring.

“This is soft!!! Feel!!!”

WX-78 kneels down and touches the sand, despite already knowing and despising how it feels. She looks so excited. They feel overly glad they messed up whenever they tried to make her cold and bitter. She continues laughing and smiling until she doubles over quite suddenly, letting out an upset little whimper that never fails to terrify WX.

“Hungry...hurts...”

Their face falls to a look of concern, and they get up before helping her to her feet, too. She stumbles upwards rather clumsily, steadying herself on their shoulder for a moment before dusting the dry sand off the backs of her legs.

“LET’S GO HOME AND I’LL HELP YOU MAKE SOMETHING, OK?”

“Yes!”

They don’t let go of her hand as they begin the journey back home. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, but knowing Walani, it’ll probably be more like an hour. Sure enough, the second they step foot off the beach, she points towards a brightly coloured patch of flowers. WX-78 has learned in the past week that it only serves to upset her if they try and chide her away, so they allow themselves to be dragged over to the blossoms whilst Walani chatters happily about whatever pops into her head.

Sure enough, an hour later, they finally return, having amassed enough seashells, flowers, berries and seeds to provide for a small colony. Walani drops her precious loot into the small chest they have. Their camp is crude, certainly, but Walani thinks it’s perfect. WX supposes it’s because she’s never known any better. They wish so desperately they could show her what she deserves.

“YOU STILL HUNGRY?”

It’s always easier to get confirmation from her, just on the off chance it was merely her mixing up another reaction taking place within her body. Walani nods, however, sitting beside the unlit campfire and scratching at one of the stones beside it. They’re burning daylight, seeing as how it’s only just turned to dusk, but they gathered enough supplies during the day. Sure, it was mainly WX who did the gathering whilst Walani puttered about playing with grass and accidentally waking up snakes, but they certainly won’t go without tonight.

They get started with making her something to eat, placing morsels and vegetables into the crockpot and lighting the small fire under it. Walani hums to herself, rather soft and tuneless, seemingly happy to lie on her stomach and amuse herself.

“DON’T GET YOURSELF ALL SANDY.”

WX instructs. They crouch down to get closer to her, rather alarmed whenever she cups their jaw and presses an electric kiss to their cheek. They can’t help the small squeaking noise that escapes them before she goes back to playing with the rocks around the fire, clicking them together and mumbling incomprehensible sentences that they assume are meant to be a conversation taking place between the two rocks in her hands.

They’re drawn away from the sweet little scene by the silencing of the crockpot, signalling to them that the food is ready. They make their way over and are met with the very satisfying sight of crispy, golden fish sticks.

“DINNER’S READY.”


	2. Cute

She’s curling up against them. Searching for warmth as the cool night air snakes its way into their lean-to. They allow her to press her cheek against their chest, a piece of silky snake skin still loosely clutched in her palm. She’s had it like that all evening, holding onto it like a lifeline. Her hold seems to have loosened in her sleep, however, and WX-78 removes it from her grasp and lays it to the side in order to lace their fingers together.

She’s so sweet. They aren’t sure how they made her so sweet. What they did to deserve someone so sweet. She lets out a small whine as she sleeps, WX squeezing their joined hands protectively. 

“Wh-“

She starts a word, only to cut herself off as she slowly blinks her eyes open. WX-78 doesn’t have the energy, nor the inclination to pretend they weren’t watching her. Not in a weird way, no. Even they like to think they have an understanding of boundaries.

“Hello?”

Her voice is very quiet, and a little quivery, still dogged with the edges of sleep. WX-78 kisses her forehead, overcome with gross, sappy emotions, the same ones that have been flooding their system since she first started taking shape so many months ago.

“It’s...not hot.”

That’s a habit of hers, they’ve noticed. When she can’t remember the word for something, she’ll simply refer to it as an opposite. They find it miles more endearing than they should. 

“COME CLOSER.”

She does as they ask, eyes widening slightly whenever she makes the sudden connection between contact and warmth.

“Hot!”

“HM, YES. SINCE MY FRAME IS LARGER THAN YOURS, I PRODUCE MORE BODY HEAT THAN YOU DO.”

She nods, although they have a feeling that she didn’t understand a word they just said. Well, maybe ‘Yes’. 

“YOU KNOW, YOU’RE AWFULLY CUTE FOR SUCH A THIEVING LITTLE HEAT LEECH.”

That she does understand. She giggles, that way that’s so, so sweet. Makes WX-78 feel like their chest is full of honey. Not in a sticky, uncomfortable way, thankfully. They never were very good with metaphors. 

“Cute.”

She taps her forefinger between their eyes then. The contact of metal on metal makes a soft chinking noise, WX blinking in alarm. They’d normally object to being called cute, or sweet, or any variation of something like that, but they can make an exception for her.

They can make so, so many exceptions for her.

Seemingly satisfied, Walani shuts her eyes again, nestling her forehead below their jaw. It’s not long until WX can hear soft whirring coming from her, the clear sign that she’s asleep. They feel sleep drag them down, too, and just like they have done since coming to this island with her, they dream.


	3. Say Pal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Viccy!!

A minion, that’s what they need.

They have enough dry biscuits in her to last until judgement day. There’s plenty of scrap metal around, and most of it is cool enough to touch by now. They aren’t trapped. They’ll escape the wreckage whenever they want.

They aren’t scared.

It’ll be like a pet project. Something to occupy them until they’re ready to leave. Even if it’s just a good chance to practice their soldering skills, as least they’ll have something else to focus on rather than the recent disappearance of their father.

———

“Sticky.”

She presses an oozing poultice onto their chest plate. WX-78 hisses out a pained noise, Walani kissing them just above their eyelid to try and soothe them. Her hands are gentle, careful, the way she moves whenever she’s picking flowers or picking up a dead butterfly. It’s almost as if she’s scared WX will break.

———

A companion, perhaps.

They’ve started to become more attached to their creation as they’ve built her. The basic frame is there already. The general shape of a woman, but not without an abundance of robotic features. She’s already more detailed than they are. Probably just a good example of their expert workmanship. Yes, that’s definitely it.

———

Walani pushes them up slowly, allowing them to get used to the change in position, before kissing them again and rising to her feet. She makes her way over to the chest at the other end of their small base and pulls out a bunch of red berries. She promptly sits herself down next to WX again and pulls one of the berries of the little branch.

“Ah.”

She makes, miming opening her mouth as she feeds WX a tiny piece of fruit. They don’t need to be babied. They don’t entirely dislike it.

———

A friend.

Companions are different to friends, aren’t they? Friends are closer. Less formal. They speak to each other kindly. They have pleasant conversations. They go places together. 

They’ve never really had a friend before. Not a proper one. They don’t think Winona counts. More like a babysitter, really, and that doesn’t seem right at all. No, she’ll be a friend to them, they’ve decided for sure. Nothing more and nothing less.

———

She only seems to be satisfied once a few of the bunches of berries are done. WX-78 is far from full, but they’re no longer experiencing the sharp pangs of hunger that they were before. Walani takes their hand and presses it below her jaw, nuzzling into it affectionately and kissing the heel of their palm. WX-78 shivers at the feeling of it.

———

This is....bad.

They are doomed to the same fate as Pygmalion. In love with their own creation. Infatuated with what is basically a moveable statue. A posable figure, formed from metal and patience and care.

They’ve spent countless hours giving her delicate features, trying their best to make her look nice. They would want her to like herself, should she wake up suddenly and go to a looking glass. They know that she won’t, but it’s a good goal to strive for. Her eyes are more human than theirs are, and have remained shut since WX-78 found the ones they wanted for her. White orbs that slotted nicely into the small almond shapes they had made in her faceplate. Parts of her are clumsily soldered, mainly the parts they did earlier on in the project, whenever they had no plans beyond making an obedient drone. She’s much smaller than they are, namely because they didn’t want to have to constantly look up to face their minion.

Well, they started with the full intentions of making a minion, didn’t they?

Her name isn’t very good. It’s taken from two scrap pieces of paper they found on the ground, one with the start burned off, the other torn from a book. ‘Alaniwal’ is a terrible name, and while ‘Walani’ isn’t much better, it’s at least closer to a real name. By the same afternoon, they can’t imagine how they ever thought of her as anything different.

WX-78 takes her hand, holds onto it tight. It’s painstakingly detailed, all the little joints well hidden, fingers curling demurely and limply over WX’s. They convince themselves it’s not just gravity doing the work and rather her own motions.

———

“Sleepy time.”

It’s more of an order rather than a request. Walani pushes WX-78 back onto the sand with alarming strength, or maybe they’re just weaker due to their not inconsiderable injuries. Whatever it is, they’re unwilling and unable to resist. 

“Sleep well. Dream sweet.”

She pets them gently just above where the poultice is before lying down next to them and shutting her eyes.

———

“Say pal, you look lonely.”

WX-78 turns sharply towards the source of the noise, and nearly lets out a shriek whenever they find a tall, slender man standing there, in the middle of the fire damaged workshop. 

“WH-WHO ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GET IN?”

The man chuckles rather smugly at WX, their faux indignity not masking their fear and alarm as well as they’d like.

“Calm down, pal. I’m just here to make you a little offer.”

The robot doesn’t respond, instead clinging onto Walani’s limp frame.

“You would just love for that little slip to be sentient, wouldn’t you?”

They nod wordlessly. They don’t like this, not one bit. The man doesn’t look entirely human, which is immediately untrustworthy. Hypocritical of them, but they know it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“As you can probably tell, I am not entirely powerless.”

He snaps his clawed fingers, a small whisper sounding as black, squirming smoke forms on his palm before fading away again with an almost silent scream.

“Quite the opposite, in fact. So, I’m willing to offer you a bit of my power to bring your little crush there to life. What do you say, huh?”

They aren’t stupid. Every logical part of their system is screaming at them that this is a bad idea, but they don’t have any other option. It’s either trust this magical intruder into the remains of their workshop, or go on tinkering with their creation until the wood of the building collapses on top of them.

“C’mon, what do you say?”

The man holds out his hand, an almost sinister smile stretching his features, revealing rows and rows of gleaming white teeth, sharp as needles.

“I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME...”

“Maxwell. Call me Maxwell, pal.”

WX-78 looks to the outstretched hand, to Walani, and back to the hand. If they are Pygmalion, then Maxwell must be Aphrodite.

They reach out and shake his hand.

With a laugh, Maxwell vanishes into a cloud of black smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy Wagstaff didn’t quite get round to the stranger danger lesson huh.


	4. Look how she lights up the sky

She is almost as fascinated with fireflies as they are with bees.

They don’t seem to shy away from her. On the contrary, they gravitate towards her. Gleam and flutter around her as soon as the sun sets. It’s like a string of fairy lights around her head. Maybe a halo would be a better analogy. WX-78 isn’t quite sure.

“Pretty...”

She mutters, gnawing off tiny bits of charred flesh from her grilled fish. WX-78 rests their chin in their palms, leaning forward to watch the way the fireflies dance around her. 

She really doesn’t deserve to be here.

Whenever she first came here, she had been immediately optimistic. Excited just to be alive. She had been up and gathering sea shells before WX-78 had done anything beyond convince themselves they were dreaming.

They wonder, briefly, what it would be like if they escaped this place. How she might like normal things. Barley sugar and perfume and silk dresses. Frivolous little fleshling distractions that all seemed well within her wide field of interests.

Her small giggle is the one thing that signals to WX-78 that they’re being watched.

“WHAT’S FUNNY?”

They ask, trying very hard not to let their voice hitch as they take in the sight of her, bathed in shining warmth. She really does look like a vision from a fantasy, like they saw her so many times in the night, fleeting hallucinations. Perhaps premonitions.

“You have big eyes when you think.”

Her vocabulary has gradually been getting better, simple strings of words forming into understandable sentences.

“YES, I’VE BEEN A LITTLE...WRAPPED UP.”

“In me?”

Her knowing little smile is adorable. Somehow both smug and shy, head tucked down as she rests her face in her hands. They worked so hard on the hands. They’re so delicate. 

“YES.”

They reply simply, can’t think of a good reason to lie. Walani sits up from the log opposite them, signalling for the fireflies to leave as she does so. They obey immediately, fluttering off to illuminate some other small corner of the island, yet WX-78 can still almost see the glow if they try.

She sits down next to them and lays her head down on their shoulder. 

“EAT YOUR FISH. YOU’LL BE HUNGRY.”

Walani stares into the fire for a moment, face portraying a look of deep concentration, before making up her mind.

“I’m not very full.”

She comments, and goes back to eating her meal. WX-78 returns to their’s, too, and they find the meal to be much more enjoyable with her curled up at their side, making the occasional comment about the day ahead and the interesting things she can see in the darkness. Mostly the fireflies.


	5. Knowledge

She’s been getting smarter.

If WX-78 were to be totally honest with themselves, they would acknowledge the fact that they could sometimes be oblivious to certain things. Granted, they would never admit this in a million years, but they know it, deep down. Walani is no different to them, really, because they built her with what knowledge they had, leaving them pretty much on equal playing fields if you didn’t count the few extra months they had on her.

At least, she used to be no different to them. Now, they aren’t so sure.

Walani’s curiosity is arguably her greatest downfall besides her innate reluctance to do any actual work. It could also be argued that it’s her greatest asset, the thing that’s been spurring her on to become so well versed in the island these past few months. She certainly knows it better than WX-78. She’s even gone as far as to begin pondering—and they shudder to think about this—sailing.

Something about it makes them feel bad. It’s their fault she’s here. She never asked to come. With everything she’s learning, she’ll quickly discover that she’s much too good for them and she’ll finally make that board thing she’s been pondering, and they’ll never see her again. It’s better they tell her themselves and at least live out the rest of their days in isolation knowing they did the best for her.

When WX-78 comes to Walani distinctly lacking their usual heir of smugness, she can immediately tell something is wrong. She’s better at emotions than they are, something she thinks would hold her well if she knew anyone else. They break down quickly, tell her just what’s bothering them and stare at the sand and make everything fully known to her. They seem to be waiting for her to leave.

“Silly robot.”

She finally sighs. WX snaps their head up.

“Being smarter only means I get to appreciate all the nice things you do for me.” 

As she says this, she leans over and gives their kiss a staticky kiss. It seems a foolish thing to worry over, but that’s part of the reason why she loves them. The haughtiness barely suppresses what a worrier they are. The jar of anti venom sitting in the chest that neither of them will ever be able to use is proof of that. 

“You’re dumb.”

“YOU ARE DUMB.”

“You wanna go...kick some grass?”

WX gives her their own awkward version of a grin, moving just out of the supposed boundaries of their base, and happily starts kicking up clods of earth.

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this if anyone wants? From an otp prompt:  
(Walani) is a robot/android created by (WX-78)


End file.
